Silent As The Grave
by IsJustIs
Summary: Curume finally gets her father to agree (reluctantly) that she could leave with the next person to come to their farmhouse asking for help. The daughter of an Imperial and an Altmer, she isn't usually well received by anyone who backs the Stormcloaks. Little does she know that the Civil War is the least of the problems going on out in the world. OC/Cicero in later chapters.


Swinging her pack over her shoulder, she turned around and headed for the door before being stopped. She glared at her father who was standing in front of the door, blocking her way. Her eyes showed how betrayed she felt. 'You Promised,' she thought, her lips in a pout. Her father just sighed and brought a hand to his head, rubbing his temple. He hated that she was all grown up, he never wanted her to leave home. It didn't matter that she was already twenty-three, she was his little girl. She turned to her mother with a look of hope.

"Husband dear," Curwe sighed, "You did promise her that she could leave with the next traveler that stopped by the house and asked for help."

"Yes, but have you seen the man?" Vantus scoffed, "He's completely out of his head! A jester? Here, in Skyrim? Ain't been a merryman in these parts for a hundred years!"

"I'm sure he's not that bad... If our daughter wants to go with him then..."

"And he's transporting some giant box. Says it's a coffin, and he's going to bury his mother. Mother my eye..."

She watched as her parents went back and forth on whether she should go. A knock at the door interrupted their discussion. "Oh for the love of Mara..." Vantus swung the door open, "What now?"

The voice from the other side of the door was quiet, yet strong, "The, um, little man really needs your help... With his wagon?"

"That Cicero feller? Hmph. Tell me something I don't know... Crazy fool's already asked me about five times. Seems he's not satisfied with my answer. Why can't he just leave us alone?"

"So what's the problem? I'm sure he would pay you..."

"Pay me? You think this is about money? He could have anything in that wagon of his! War contraband. Weapons. Skooma. Ain't no way I'm getting involved in any of that... And neither is my daughter."

She had enough by this point, and pushed her way out the door past her father. The man on the other side of the door glanced at her before turning back to Vantus, "He's a stranger who needs assistance. Please, do the right thing."

"What? And just who in Mara's name are you , anyway? Hmm? Come here, telling me my business and how to run my family..."

Curwe stepped up behind her husband and placed a hand on his shoulder, cautioning him. "Husband, the man isn't..."

Vantus brushed her hand from his shoulder, "And for what? To help a... a... a fool!" He turned his attention back to his daughter. "Curume! Get back in the house!"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she continued on her way down the path to the road. She perked up as her pointed ears picked up on the rest of the conversation as it faded with distance.

"You know you should help him."

"Look... I... I... Yes... You're right, you're right. Feller might be nutters, might not. But fact is, he needs help. I turn him away, I make my daughter more angry at me, what kind of man am I, hmm? Look, um... Thanks. And I'm sorry for my unneighborly reaction. If you talk to Cicero, you be sure and tell him I'll be down to help soon. I just need to gather my tools."

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder a short time after. Turning, she found herself looking up into the face of the man at the door.

"That was quite a scene your father put on back there."

She nodded, readjusting her pack.

"Heading out to see the world, huh? My father was the same way when I came of age."

Again, she nodded, resuming her walk toward the road.

"You don't talk much do you," He laughed deeply before calling out to the figure by the wagon, "Ah! Cicero! I talked to Loreius. He's agreed to fix your wagon wheel."

Cicero turned, with a shocked look on his face, "You... You did? He has?"

"Yup. It didn't take too long to get him to see reason."

"Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My mother thanks you!"

She watched as the stranger grinned a lopsided grin, placing his hand upon the crate gently. As he did so, she felt her hair stand on end. She glanced back at Cicero who had a murderous look about him, his hand hovering over the ebony dagger at his side.

"You're welcome, ma'am," the stranger spoke to the crate before turning back towards Cicero. Any trace of the look that she had seen was gone as Cicero bounced jubilantly from foot to foot before reaching into his pocket to pull out a pouch.

"Here, here! For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for a kind deed! And thank you! Thank you again," Cicero laughed before turning back to his wagon and whispering to the crate.

The stranger turned back to her, "The name's Ragnar. Not the Red, in case you were wondering. My father's name is also Ragnar. I was named after him. His parents named him after the song. Usually I'm wandering, but if you ever find yourself in one of the cities, just ask where Thane Ragnar lives."

She raised an eyebrow and he continued, "Yeah I don't know how it keeps happening. One moment I'm just helping someone with a small problem, the next, the Jarl of whatever hold I'm in has heard about me and I'm off to their court accepting the title of Thane, being given weapons and houses. Anyhow, just tell whoever opens the door that I sent you, and you won't have to pay to sleep in an inn. Farewell." He winked as he took her hand and kissed it before turning and mounting his horse.

She wiped the back of her hand on her travel skirt as she watched him go. There was just something about Ragnar that didn't feel right.


End file.
